


If I Only Knew

by Milksapphire



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Motherhood, One Shot, Other, Who put these onions here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milksapphire/pseuds/Milksapphire
Summary: Xena shares the last few moments she has with her son.
Relationships: Borias/Xena
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	If I Only Knew

Thick clouds of smoke traveled across the skies. Corinth was still burning two days after the battle. The bloodbath was like a distant memory. She was there in the heat of the war but her mind was elsewhere. Yes, she couldn’t keep her mind off the centaurs attacking her army that’s all that mattered to her at the moment.

Being stabbed in the thigh or gashed in the spine was a lot less painful than childbirth. She never complained when she had been injured in battle and the pain quickly faded when she focused her mind on something else. Giving birth was a different level of pain and the one thing that came along with childbirth was emotion.

Conceiving a child was simple, easy and perhaps a bit enjoyable. Carrying a child was difficult but it never hindered her to continue commanding the army. Birthing a child was a painful experience she’d never forget.

That night during the battle of Corinth she thought the burning sensation coursing through her body would never come to an end. When it finally did, the pain didn’t stop there. That emotion of fear set in when she first laid eyes on the child she gave birth to. Having no idea what to do at that very moment she was given no time to think or wonder.

She left the decimated campsite, bleeding profusely, sweat drenched hair stuck to her forehead and shaking as she held her child in her arms. Then she saw him. Borias’ body covered in freshly stained blood on the ground. That image was forever burned into her mind and all she had was the child to remember him by.

Three days after leaving Corinth she relocated to a quieter area. She never felt more alone. Her army was gone, Borias was gone, her dreams, her plans, all had gone in a blink of an eye.

At first she hated the child she carried for those nine months. She wished that she’d never gotten pregnant in the first place. She blamed the small innocent being for everything she wanted to accomplish in her young life.

Now, as she held the baby in her arms, she didn’t quite have the same hatred and resentment. Leaned up against a tree she winced at the slightest movement. Her body still tender and writhing from the birth days prior, reminded her to be cautious of every single twinge or move she made.

She adjusted her infant son and rested his small body against her thighs. He was loosely swaddled in a wool blanket and had his arms tucked beside his cheeks.

The infamous warlord hadn’t any idea what to do next. She had nothing to go back to. As her thoughts whirled in her head, her son opened his eyes groggily and he stared straight at her.

She inhaled with short breath and widened her blue eyes that mirrored her son’s. Staring at a baby was more frightening than facing ten warlords at once. He yawned and curled his fingers into two fists then began squirming around in the blanket.

A hint of a smile graced her lips and she pulled the blanket over his naked flesh. He never took his eyes off her and she traced her finger along his tiny arm. His big eyes wandered around his new surroundings and continued to squirm, kicking his legs and stretching his arms outward.

Continuously fussing he kicked his leg out from underneath the blanket. She grabbed his leg and stared at his tiny foot. How she remembered that just a few days ago she felt those same feet from within her womb. Naively, she thought that the day she’d give birth would never come.

It was all an illusion except that it wasn’t. It happened. Suddenly, she wished that she paid more attention to her son and listened to Borias. All those months spent bickering and arguing had to have some effect on their son but she didn’t give him a second thought.

He began to whimper and she panicked. Her heart pumped rapidly and she quickly swaddled him in the blanket and carefully tucked her palm under his head and moved his body off her thighs. She relaxed against the tree trunk and cuddled him close to her breast.

Suckling her breast he gazed up at her with wide eyes as she peered down at him. Smiling faintly she felt tears welling in her eyes.

The days they spent together only made it harder for her to come to a decision. Borias told her several times that the best thing to do for their son was to take him away from her. She boasted and scoffed at the idea. She wanted ultimate possession of everything that belonged to Borias out of spite and their son was the one thing that could be _hers_.

The repetitive threats to keep her son away from Borias turned into a twisted mind game of hers. She constantly berated Borias about raising their son together. She wanted to do everything alone just as she’d always done. Now, as she was feeding their son, her thoughts on the subject changed.

She was alone, truly alone.

“You deserve so much more than I could give you,” she whispered and took hold of his fist. “Your father was right about me.” She sighs heavily.

She felt a bit ridiculous talking to a baby but she had nobody to tell her inner thoughts to. She knew that he’d listen to her and keep her secrets safe.

The infant squirmed and she pulled him away from her breast and flung the fur coat over her shoulder. She kept smiling at his serene face and held him in her arms. She wiped his lips with a gentle swipe of her finger.

A child should never have to grow up without their parents but in this case, she couldn’t fathom the idea of being a mother. She didn’t know how to raise a baby and how would she do it? Her enemies had bounties over her head across the Greece and Rome. She was a dead woman at every corner she turned.

“I have a lot of people who hate me,” she tells him, “but I don’t hate you.”

He gurgled at the sound of her soothing voice and he grabbed her finger. She held her breath at his touch. Such soft skin, she mused. A touch of innocence rendered her breathless. Their blue eyes locked in an intense staring contest once more.

She leaned down and kissed her son’s forehead. She smoothed her palm over his blonde wispy hair and she felt his grip tighten around her finger.

“If you only knew how much he loved you,” she whispered. “If _I_ only knew.”


End file.
